Damaged Knight Remastered
by Wolfsalvo
Summary: Join Stephen Armen, the Matilda 2 tank commander, as he is fighting a war in North Africa one moment, and an unknown force in the far reaches of Mekkah's north the next. Adaptability is a requirement in wartime. Will Stephen's mettle prove adaptable enough? *Side Story of Fabled World


_**Damaged Knight Remastered**_

 **The enemy advances, we retreat; the enemy camps, we harass; the enemy tires, we attack; the enemy retreats, we pursue.**

 **Mao Tse- Tung**

 _ **-(Stephen's P.O.V.)-**_

Gripping the rail bars over my head as the world around me shook violently; I heard the sound of debris striking the hull of my tank constantly and viscously. A turn of my head revealed smoke pouring over the view ports of my beast, before the engine roared defiantly and the smoke parted to reveal a ravaged and crater pockmarked sandy battlefield. Looking towards my crew, I saw the expressions on their faces were taunt with grim determination, the hard look in their eyes matched only by the ruthlessness of enemy we faced. I felt a snarl leave my lips as I turned to my driver and shouted over the screams of artillery gunfire, "Bloody hell Steve, stop driving in a straight line before we get peg-"

 _ **CLANG!**_

My ears rang from the bell gong slap against the exterior of the tank, and I looked towards the side where I had heard the hit and was rewarded by the visual of a deep dent a mere foot from my head. A chilling splash of realization made my blood run cold like ice, before I reacted by shouting, "Load the main cannon!" Fear made for a magnificent incentment for my crew and I to act at our peak capacities, it also was enforced by the never ending wave of artillery shells that screamed overhead and pierced the loud growls of the engine and cut through the thick armor. The vibrations or violent shaking was from those shells landing close by or too close for comfort, respectively.

The mounted machine gun began to bark quickly from its place at the front of the hull, and I heard David call up from his position, "Commander, Nazi anti-tank positions ahead!"

Growling as I grabbed my Sten, I reached up and popped the hatch, taking only a single moment to brace myself for the chaos I was about to enter. I popped up from within the safety of my tank and took immediate stock of our surroundings, my first sight being planes overhead commencing in dogfighting, both sides attempting to maneuver around the blimps that hung ominously overhead; Nazi Insignia's emblazed proudly on the sides of the crafts. I brought my gaze, and weapon, down and sighted in on the first position. I saw a Panzer Shrek being loaded, yet I unloaded my Sten's ammo clip into the sand dugout as the weapon began to rise towards my tank. Bullets tore into sand or cur through grey uniform, blood splattering out from behind the fallen dogs, the entire pit being eliminated before I ducked back into the tank; a stray round pinging off my helmet as I did so. I pulled the spent clip out and loaded another as the tank rocked back on its tracks.

 _ **BOOM!**_

"Second enemy position eliminated sir!" Mark called from his position. I looked down at him with a wide grin as I slammed another clip into the Sten.

Turning to regard the rest of the crew, I began, "Well done gents, we have breached enemy lines! Now then, let's go get those art-" Yet I was cut off by the loud roaring of approaching shells, the high pitched whistling as all my men got into safety positions while I ripped the radio transceiver from its spot on the hull and shouted into it, "BRACE!"

I had just enough time to pop up and slam the hatch close before the whistling ceased to exist, cold dread washing through my entire body. And then the world shook from our tank taking numerous and uncountable hits, the jolts in the tank resulting in me being flung into the side of the tank with a painful grunt; lights flashing across my vision as my helmet connected with the side of the turrets dome. I lost hearing from there on out...

When it was over, there was a thin layer of smoke on the inside of our tank. When I could hear and see again enough to make sense of what I was seeing, I felt a myriad of emotions shoot through me as I looked down and saw the remains of Marks mangled corpse, my gaze looking past his bloody torso to see a dazed Steve, and David clutching at his chest as he heaved in great lungful's of breath. He was looking down at a piece of shrapnel that had punctured the hull and imbedded his body to his seat through his chest. He shakily pulled his hands from his wound as he looked up towards the interior of the tank. Steve looked down at him as well, though his gave locked with my own; fear and pain written all over his face with a remorseful resignation in his eyes. He gave me a nod and spoke, blood spilling down his lips, "I can still... serve my country..."

The radio crackled, before the generals voice spoke over the channel, " _Commander Stephen of Tank division one-one, you need to push forward with the remaining two Sherman tanks, over!"_

I reached a shaky hand down and pulled the transceiver up from where it hung, before I answered back, "Affirmative sir, proceeding with friendly forces to artillery position, out..."

Letting the transceiver hang, I got down and moved Marks remains over as gently as possible, feeling my heart lurch as I moved the last remains of my old friend to the side as Steve looked fearfully at the hole the shell had punched into the hull. When I was done with my task, I looked over at David, his gaze out the viewport as his white knuckles shone with the intensity he gripped the mounted gun. Best American transfer I had ever met. I turned my gaze to Steve and growled at him, "You heard the General, stop being a bloody wanker and move this tub!"

Steve shot back into action, the tank rumbling into motion as I reloaded the main cannon, and then got back up and popped the hatch open. I grabbed the radio and pulled the transceiver up to my lips, looking out at the remaining attack force as I spoke into the radio, "Friendly Sherman tanks, this is Commander Stephen of the remaining Matilda II, we are down half our crew and require your aid. We will require your additional support to destroy... the artillery installments. Please provide close cover." An artillery shell landed in the ground beside my tank, raining down shrapnel and sandy glass from above during the message.

"Roger that Commander Stephen. Remain by our sides and you won't have anything to worry about." Replied one of the tank crews over the radio, leaving me to surmise it could only be from one of the two nearby Sherman Tanks. I looked ahead as our tank hit a rough patch of ground, and that was when I saw the poor condition our tank had suffered during the prolonged artillery barrage. The entire hull was pockmarked with black holes, the larger and more sufficient impacts leaving deep furrows into the armor plating that revealed the sheen silver steel beneath. The entire front of the tank was no longer tan to resemble sand, instead now seeming to have been burned as it adopted a black smoke stain across the majority of the hull...

Ducking back into the tank and sealing the hatch, I grabbed the radio and got into the gunner seat, reaching a hand up to grab the controls as I placed the radio nearby. I looked over at the blood seeping down Marks face, his wide empty eyes showing the last fearful expression he would ever have to show again. I reached over and gently closed his eyes as I said softly, "You served the queen well lad... rest easy my friend..."

Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I looked through the slits that Mark used, before turning the turret towards a grave and dangerous threat. When the barrel was pointing directly at the enemy Panzer, I pulled the firing stud and felt the tank rock side to side a bit, and watched a shell blast from the barrel and the shell connect with the back of the tank to take out its fuel storage tanks; resulting in a lucky explosion as the panzers engine overheated and flooded with remaining fuel and flames.

Popping the cannon open, I grabbed another shell and loaded it into the breach and slammed it shut, the sound of David opening fire reaching my ears as well as the sound of light arms fire pelting the armor of the tank. Yet then there was a loud explosion, the unexpected force nearly forcing my helmet into the hull once more, and a snarl left my lips as I looked into the slits again, finding the first Howitzer artillery gun and its crew reloading. I began to rotate the barrel towards their position as the radio crackled to life, and a frantic shouting entered the tank, "All tanks, they are turning their anti-air batteries towards the ridge, all tanks br- _AHH!_ "

There was a sound of a hundred machine guns ripping through the air at once as well as the corresponding plinking sound, before an explosion sounded not a second later somewhere to the left of our tank. Turning to look at Steve, I shouted, "GET US OFF THIS RIDGE!"

Steve made an aggressive turn, and as we rammed into the sandbar, sand seemed to splash up and over the viewports, before an electrical tingle ran through my entire body. My heart shot into my throat as my Matilda lurched as if struck by some invisible force, and the next thing I knew of was the sudden sensation of being frozen by a frigid breeze of air surging into the tank. Instinctively I clutched my arms around my body, and I looked over and saw snow, actual _snow_ blow into the tank through the breach in our hull.

I lurched away from the cold air, yet then I felt the tank shake as something grazed the hull. _**Dink dink, CLANG, dink dink dink.**_ The sound of automatic gunfire and the echoing report of a tank reached my ears, and I quickly looked into the viewports just as Steve shouted, "Sir, we are no longer in the desert!"

His observation was correct, the entire landscape looked like a snowfield that was almost untouched, aside from the lone forest green tank that I couldn't identify, as well as the countless grey uniformed Nazi dogs that surrounded the area around the lone tank. Behind it I could see the flaming husk of a Sherman burning in its own inferno, though the bright flashes from the opposing tank brought my attention back to it. Our barrel was already facing it, so I pulled the firing stud. The enemy tank that sat motionless two leagues away took a hit directly to its hull, though I watched in horror as the shell rocketed away into the sky. I loaded another shell into the cannon, hearing David shout in pain as he began to fire at the enemy's, the small snow mounds offering no resistance to the projectiles, bright crimson blood splattering the ground beneath the bodies...

Slamming the breach closed, I looked towards the view slits and saw another flickering light catch my eyes. What I saw appeared to be an original Matilda design tank, flames licking from its hull as I grabbed the radio and shouted into it, feeling panic melding with the fear I started to feel, "This is Commander Stephen of the Matilda tank platoon one- one, requesting immediate aid from any able bodied friendly forces.

 **BOOM!**

The echoing report reached my ears just as the hull exploded just beside the barrel, sending a large piece of metal shooting through and right into my shoulder, a sharp cry of pain leaving my lips. "Commander!"

Stephen shot his head in my direction as he began to get up, though I practically spat at him with a growl, "Don't you stop moving this rust bucket!" Immediately he sat back down, the tank lurching to the side as I forced myself back up and rotating the turret towards the enemy tank. Steve had turned left towards the other Matilda, thus my aim shifted right. The opposing tanks barrel was swiveling, its barrel never wavering from our hull as I continued to rotate the turret. Before I could shoot, a blast of fire and smoke erupted from the side of the enemy monster, the hull denting in as another shot grazed against our hull. I grimaced as I squeezed the firing stud, the shot shooting straight and true this time. It hit the front of the enemy tank and bounced, though it shot straight into the unarmored underside of the turret.

Smoke began to pour from the tanks barrel, with flames licking just at the access hatch that was located on the front of the tank instead of the top. I wasn't sure if it was entirely destroyed or not, yet I wasn't sure if I could load another shell or not...

 _ **-(Gregory's P.O.V.)-**_

Stumbling as one of the larger white hominoid white wolves rushed past me, I coughed violently as I continued to limp through the village, seeking more enemies as well as friendly humans. My tank continued to operate with its limited functionality, its tall and proud figure presenting the majority of its hull to protect this village as two of my remaining five man crew continued to operate its turrets. A wave of nausea crashed into my body, subsiding a bit as the cold chill of the present winter shook me to the core. I stumbled again as I thought, _We shouldn't be here, wherever here is! Those bloody bi-planes crashed into the side of my tank, and now we are here, fighting Germans and stronger tanks! THOSE BLOODY WANKERS!_

Feeling my airway become obstructed, I coughed as I stumbled, falling to my hands and knees as a glob of blood fell from between my lips, the horrid taste of bile following afterwards. Yet as I looked over, I felt my eyes widen as I saw Philip being held by a white wolf, the creature glancing up at me briefly, before it went back to comforting the distressed young lad. I crawled over, stopping on his over side and looking down at the young face of a boy that had barely entered his seventeenth year, blood caking his face as his eyes shifted from the wolfs to my own. Pain washed through me, regretting every minute this war went on; the longer it lasted, the younger our soldiers became.

I reached over as Philip began to close his eyes, and I cried out hoarsely, feeling tears threatening to fall to my cheeks, "No- _no_! Philip, d-don't die! Not like this lad! You can live... you can go see your mum again!" My hands pulled at his collar, my heart straining to not crumble as yet another kid under my command was about to perish...

"Sir..." My eyes became somewhat misty as he opened his eyes, looking over at me with a calmness that evaded me. He offered a pained and weak smile, the corners of his lips barely tugging up as he spoke slowly, wheezing from the cold or his wounds... if not both. "W-we both know I won't live into the next hour." He began to cough weakly, fresh blood flecking his lips as the large and deep gash in his side began to take its toll on his frail fragile body. I opened my mouth to say something, yet stopped as he spoke again, weaker than before, "S-Sir… tell… tell my… tell my mum I l-love her..."

All my men were injured, yet the toll that had been taken on his body was finally ending in due course, his coughs and wheezes sounding less and less strained, the white wolf saying something in its strange language, though to whom I didn't know or care. I just knew one sad fact, this lad would never see his home again, and he had already accepted that fact. So when I took him into my arms from the wolf, I held him close as I wept, watching as his eyes lost focus, his coughs slowly and peacefully subsiding into silence, the sound of gunfire and shouting seeming distant. It was hard to watch another person die... yet it was all the more when you were the one in charge of them before it happened, and to know the person was still so young.

 _CRACK!_

My head shot into the direction of the sharp rifle report, and what I saw infuriated me. The reason for the kids' death and so many others stood tall over the village.

 _CRACK!_

Another bullet ripped through the air as the German fired into the village, his eyes cold and as uncaring as the snow around him, his hand already cycling another bullet as I quickly and carefully set Philips deceased body down onto the ground, grabbing the pistol from his holster as I stood and shouted, "YOU BLOODY WANKER!"

He turned and faced me, his eyes widening as I brought the pistol up and shot towards him, his shoulder jerking to the side as a spray of blood left from behind his shoulder. He stumbled back, before he brought his rifle back up. I cocked the lever back, though this time he fired first his shot racing through somewhere on my abdomen. I stumbled back as a brief shock of pain lanced through me, though it quickly evaporated as I shot again, my aim being thrown off and the bullet getting lodged into his thigh. He shouted in pain, and I began to advance towards his down figure as he began to push himself up. Another trigger pull and he was no more... except my anger and sense of retribution still wasn't abated...

The muted yet extremely solid sound of a 'thump' reached my ears, and the thickness of the sound brought my gaze to my tank, where I saw two Nazi soldiers reopen and then drop grenades into the hatch of my tank, before sealing it. My jaw dropped, my fury intensifying into an unbridled rage as the 'thump' came again. I rushed towards them, firing the entire time as I shouted my pain and anguish to the heavens. They seemed to jerk from the bullets that were raining into their bodies, yet once both firearms ran dry, I dropped my own and cocked my arm back and was about to throw the weapon still in an attempt to gain any additional harm on the monsters, before I stopped in my tracks. The echo of a rifle report reached my ears, and the weapon fell from my hand as my other reached forward and pressed against my side. It came away stick and wet with crimson liquid, the sight bringing a sudden pain to my body as I turned and looked at my assailants. Three Germans greeted me, yet as the two flanking the middle one raised their weapons, I saw the middle Nazi bring the bolt back for his weapon. I knew this was my end, yet I simply glared at them, knowing my anger would never know an end for them...

 _ **-(Stephen's P.O.V.)-**_

Leaning heavily against the side of the tank, I fired the remainder of my sidearm ammunition at the retreating Nazi's the loss of over half their original number and their only tank sparking them into a less than savory end. As I watched them scatter across the white plains, a few dropped from lucky shots, yet I couldn't help but wonder where they thought they were going to go in this empty expanse of snow covered land. I looked towards the other now flaming Matilda, reloading my weapon as Steve jumped down from the hatch of our tank, holding the Sten I had given him. I gestured towards the tank as I said quietly, "Gunfire came from the other side, flanking maneuver..."

Moving towards the tank as I popped the cylinder back into place for my weapon, I made it to the other tank, before sidling up against the front end of it. I kept an eye open for any hostiles, yet when I looked over, I saw Steve move around the back, so I went around the front. I waited only a second, as standard procedure, before I popped out from around the front and found Steve falling to his knees, his hand clutching at his neck as blood seeped between his fingers. " _NO!_ "

The trio of Nazi's standing in front of me jumped, but I raised my pistol and shot six times, twice into each of their bodies. I rushed towards Steve when they were down, dropping to my knees as I pulled Steve up from the snow covered ground, where his eyes gazed up at me painfully, the dilated pupils the only expression on his face. His other hand slapped against his thigh, before he yanked something from his body and slammed it against my chest, I looked down as I took the offered object, only to find an icy chill greet me as I looked at Steve's snub nosed magnum. His voice sounded strained as he spoke, "D-Do it sir!" I looked back up and into Steve's brown eyes, seeing tears dripping down his cheeks as he gazed at me meaningfully. I shook my head, more out of disbelief than denial, before he pleaded in agony, " _Please_!"

Feeling conflicted emotions shooting through me, I looked over at motion from the corner of my eye, only to find spear wielding wolf... creatures. They stood defensively around me, them between me, and what looked like a village behind them. I wanted to question the absurdness of the whole situation and what just took place in the last dozen or so minutes, but I had more pressing matters. Steve jerked violently as he spluttered, blood washing over his lips as he pleaded with his eyes... and I understood. He was drowning on his own blood, as well as the pain he was undergoing.

Wrapping my hand around the grip of his pistol, I looked into his eyes as I said, "It was a pleasure having you under my command... rest easy..." I lifted the pistol up, and before he could suffer any longer, I pulled the trigger...

* * *

My body was wracked with chills, the snow and winter landscape taking its toll on my body as I sat there, my back pressed against the tracks of a tank as I finally came to terms with my situation. My entire crew... all my friends, my brothers... my family, was dead. We had all fought together, bravely to the end, and as I got to my feet, I watched with uncaring and emotionless eyes as the white wolf people all took extreme attention to watch me as I walked forward. Many of those wielding spears raised them to point at me, while others withdrew knives or blades that resembled cooking implements. Despite their aggression and open preparedness to fight me, I didn't care as I ripped my knife from its spot at my hip, and simply held it loosely in my grip. Those closest to me seemed to prepare for a fight, yet when I flicked my knife away and into the snow over a dozen feet away, an expression akin to surprise and confusion spread across many of their faces.

Turning and limping over to Steve, I kneeled down at his side, before I reached a hand and yanked his identification from around his neck, the crude dog tags soon entering my pocket. I reached down and picked his limp body up from the ground, his head lulling back in his lifelessness, the sight bringing a few more tears to my eyes as I turned and walked back towards my tank. My brothers in arms... my friends... they were all dead, and I was now alone in this strange land by myself...

Setting Steve's body down beside the tanks tracks, I went over and started to climb it... I still had two other comrades to bury alongside Steve, and I would be damned if I didn't give them the same respect that they deserved. I would first get Mark...

My work passed in silence, and when I came out with my last brother, I looked up and at the assembled wolves, finding them watching me from a safe distance as I climbed down from my tank, setting David's body down beside Marks, and then reaching down and grabbing his dog tags to set them with the others in my pocket.

Turning, I made my way to the back of the tank, grabbed the latrine shovel, and turned back around. I would bury these men... even if it killed me. The shovel was small, the blade sharpened to be as useful for digging holes as being used as a weapon if the need came to it, yet as I extended the handle and unfolded the head, I took in a deep breath; my lungs filling me with revitalizing frigid air. With a quick slam through the snow and into the ground beneath, I brought a foot up and pressed the head into the ground a few more inches, my thoughts shifting into memories of the more peaceful missions we went on.

Throwing both snow and dirt aside, I brought the shovel up again and buried the head once more. My shoulder throbbed and protested from the use it was being subjected to, yet I knew once I removed the piece of shrapnel from my skin, I would bleed excessively, and without the proper medical supplies with which to bandage myself, I would bleed out before the cold could kill me...

...

Looking over the graves, three of my own crew and four from the other Matilda tank, I heaved a sigh as I leaned back against the turret of my tank. Many of the wolves had been wary or outright hostile towards me, and while none had attacked or come close, I saw them watching me with a predatory glare most of the time. Yet I still felt grateful of many of them, with a few exceptional having aided in gathering the bodies of the other crew as well as digging respective graves. Each tank except the now smoking Sherman, had the dog tags of their crew hanging from their main cannon barrel, including my own hanging alongside my brothers.

With a few of the creatures still keeping an eye on me, as well as others standing on the rim of their village and keeping an eye out for any additional threats, I knew now was my time. With fingers that felt more like bricks of ice, I pulled my Commanders jacket from my shoulders and let it fall back against the hull, revealing my sleeveless shirt beneath, now more yellow and red than white. I looked over at my shoulder and grimaced at the jagged looking metal protrusion that stuck out from my skin, the area around it splotched with purple bruising and red staining my skin running down my side. I wouldn't need to worry about the cold getting to me or the infection that would set in... this was a wound that was more severe than I had originally assumed it to be.

Wrapping my fingers around the piece of metal, I looked skyward and kept my gaze averted from my left, before I gave a firm tug and ripped the metal from my shoulder. I bit my lip to stifle my pained groan from echoing too loudly, though those closest to my location still looked over nonetheless. I would've wished to study them more, what with their superior hearing and possible sight and smell, but just as I dropped the metal fragment from my grip, hearing it clang against the hull of my tank. I leaned back as white spots began to shoot across my vision, and I felt a warm breeze caress and envelope my body, before I felt myself slump and darkness covered everything...

* * *

I felt weak, and everything seemed bleary as my head rolled from one side to the other, my throat feeling dry and my head throbbing painfully. With a quick push of my elbow, I began to sit up slowly, before I felt hands press against my chest and pushing me back down. My strength was nonexistent as I was pressed back down against a bedding of some sort, before a soft spoken voice reached my ears, the only thing that was clear enough for me to really understand in my current state. "Stay down, you need your rest," The voice instructed, before the sound of scraping reached my ears and something was pressed against my lips, "here... drink this, it will make you feel better.

The choice wasn't in my hands as much when the liquid began to wash between my lips, the fluid soon washing down and into my core as a comforting warmth began to envelope my body. I drank slowly, feeling exhaustion wash over my body once more, before the dark blanket of sleep began to sweep over my body once again...

...

My eyes fluttered open as I awoke, memories of recent events flooding into my mind as I looked up through the haze and towards the low hanging ceiling above. My body felt tired and abused, though I ignored the slight haze of pain as I rolled over. I placed my hands beneath my body and began to push myself up, my strength faltering as a sharp pain ran through my shoulder. I looked over and saw my shoulder was mostly bandaged though I knew without proper care I would most likely crack open any scabbing that had taken place by now.

Getting to my feet unsteadily, I placed a hand against the wall of the strange hut I was in, before I took in my immediate surroundings and found my jacket near the entranceway. I reached a hand down and plucked it from the ground, before throwing the meager covering on over my body. The entire interior was bare, save for the padding and blankets I had been sleeping on, as well as a few spare rolls near the far back wall. I turned back forward and made my way through the entrance, immediately regretting it as the warmth I had felt vanishing to instead be replaced with freezing frosty cold. I stepped back, ready to retreat back to the comfort of the hut, yet stopped as I knew what I needed to do. _My crew is dead, the enemy is still out there, and I need to return to command and alert them of this development._

Pushing myself forward, I stumbled the first few steps, my arms wrapped tightly around my body as I looked towards the snowy rim, finding my tanks darkened outline sitting ominously still and quiet. I pushed onwards, making my way through the dead silent village without a sound from me or any of the denizens. As I passed huts, I looked in and found the wolf hominoids asleep, never seeing more than two in a single hut.

Before I stepped up over the rim of accumulated snow, I stepped on something and slipped on a slick surface, catching myself from landing in the snow bank. I looked down at the ground behind me and found a silver sheen reflect the moonlight back at me, and as I kneeled down and plucked the object from beneath the snow, another part of the snow lifted as well as what I grabbed slid out from another item. When the item was in the glow of the moon, I looked at the Python in my grip, its surface untarnished and the silver stainless steel specked by a drop of blood. I reached my other hand down and pulled another Python from beneath the snow. This one showed many more years of use, the steel scratched and dull in many places, with the wooden grip cracked as well.

Getting back up and making my way towards the ridge, I placed one of the weapons in my holster as well as placing the other in my jackets pocket. I continued on, my path taking me up towards the Matilda I tank first, where I found a Kar standing tall in the snow, as well as a few MP forties placed against the tanks tracks. Each individual weapon would be valuable... even if they originally belonged to the enemy.

My body experienced a wave of shivers that wracked me from head to toe, urgently reminding me that I was drastically underprepared for a winter environment. I rushed forward and wrapped my fingers around the barrels of the weapons, nearly dropping them initially from the sudden ice like feeling of the barrels touching my skin. I grimaced as I pushed the cold sensation out of mind and turned and made my way towards my own tank. It was essentially a metal ice block until I started the engine, and only the queen and engineers knew how long it would take for that mechanical brick to start producing any kind of heat.

Dropping the weapons onto the hull of my tank, I grabbed key sections of the tank and then proceeded to pull myself up onto the hull, yet as I reached forward on instinct to pop the hatch, my fingers instead wrapped around a barrel, and I looked towards what I was holding. I found my fingers wrapped around the barrel of a Sten... or more precisely, the Sten I had given to Steve to use. My energy seemed to waver briefly as pain ran across my chest like a Calvary charge, old memories, both good and bad, flashed behind my eyes. I shook my head and placed it inside the open hatch to the side of the commanders' seat. I repeated the same with the other weapons, all except for the Pythons strapped to my body.

Once I was sure the weapons were secured and in place, I turned and jumped down to the ground, yet the shadows moved and I found myself being forced back against my tank. The first thing I realized was the incredible warmth emitting from the persons hands as they pressed against my shoulders. I felt my body stiffen in response to the sudden attack, yet as the person moved closer, I saw it was another of those creatures, though its voice alerted me to its feministy, "What are you doing out here!? You are in no condition to be traveling!"

Her eyes, bright yellow in the light of the moon, shined back at me as she wrapped her hand around my own and began to pull me back towards the village. I only managed to stop my movement after I dug my feet into the ground, bringing her to a stop as well when her hold on my hand vanished. Now that my eyes were better adjusted to looking at her on ground level instead of the reflective material of metal tank armor, I saw her turn her head sharply towards me, her eyes seeming to narrow as I said, "I am getting ready to leave, I need to return to my duty."

She looked towards me, her body shifting as she said, "You can't leave right now, you need to stay where you can be helped."

"I don't need help!" I snapped back, feeling desperate to return to moving, the cold bite of snow digging its way deep into my skin and bones, my muscles failing to provide any warmth.

She didn't take notice, instead she emitted a somewhat hair-raising growl that forced me back a step. She turned and faced me directly, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as she said, "You selfish, inconsiderate," there was another growl, "Do you know how much I risked for you? How about you show some gratitude for your savior. If the wolves of this village had their way, they would've killed you after you collapsed from your injuries."

The anger I felt boiling within me simmered down and was replaced with a tinge of regret, and I lowered my head, knowing that was most likely exactly what happened. The wolves had been prepared to fight me before they helped me, and the majority would've most likely seen me just the same as the Nazi's, as they were the only other humans around here. I swallowed thickly, pressing my hands into my sides from the cold that was blowing against my paper thin pants, with my thick commanders jacket doing little to fight the cold. I lifted my head up, though my gaze remained down as I said, "I am sorry... but I can't stay..."

I felt a hand wrap around and grip my arm, and I was once more being tugged away, my guide speaking as she pulled me away from my tank, "Not tonight, it is too cold for one such as yourself to be moving around here. Besides, you would freeze before you reached anywhere to camp. Now, do you have a name, or should I just call you icicle?"

The hidden joke in her question was clear enough, but I lacked the will or energy to crack the smile it normally would've drawn from me, instead I merely answered, "Stephen... my name is Stephen. Stephen Polaski Myers." I leaned closer in as she slowed her pace, her hand moving down to my own once more. The lack of heat from my body coaxed me closer to her own, warmer body, and I felt the slight warmth that left through her fur waft towards me. I closed my eyes briefly as I let her guide me, yet I opened them as I asked, "What about you, what is your name? And what are you...?"

I looked towards her, yet she remained looking forward as she said softly, "My name is Fate, and I am a Lynx Kiedran. I wish our meeting was under calmer circumstances Stephen..."

Her answer drew a subtle nod from me as I looked back forward, seeing the small hut I had vacated earlier come into view. I let out a sigh, the air in front of me fogging slightly before I tested the name on my tongue quietly, "Fate..." She looked over at me, her eyes questioning, and I covered by asking, "I assume you have more questions?"

We reached the hut, and she gestured for me to enter as she said, "Yeah... lots..."

* * *

After a brief explanation to the entire tribe of Northern Wolf Kiedran, Fate, myself, and three of her companions were ready to leave. I had gathered every single useable weapon and ammunition for both Tank and personnel use, whatever spare fuel that hadn't been burned and that could fit in all the fuel canisters that I had found in the general area, and finally buried collected every dog tag that remained from the friendly forces. It was dirty yet necessary work when I had finally cleaned the interior of the tank, and it was only then that the Kiedran that traveled with Fate were able to comfortably sit in or on my tank.

Looking to my side as I shivered violently, I saw Fate slide down next to me, her eyes full of concern as she asked, "Are the blankets not helping?"

Frowning, I let go of the controls for the moment as I pulled the blanket from around my shoulders and gave it back to Fate. I let out a sigh as discomfort began to reassert itself, my voice soon echoing in the empty tank, "No... they haven't helped since we left the village... this tank only gets hot in the desert..."

After we had left the village, it had become apparent that I needed some way of keeping warm, and the only comfortable option available was to wrap myself in blankets. The blankets had prevented the cold from reaching me inside the hut that Fate and I had stayed in the previous night, our conversation the entire night also acting as a sort of distraction from the occasional chill. Yet now, despite it being daytime and the engine running at full power and the tank moving at full speed, the only temperature I felt inside the tank was the temperature of the snow outside; snow that kept the tank cold as it plowed straight through it.

Yet when another violent shiver racked my body, I heard Fate mutter something under her breath, before I looked over as she sidled down next to me. There wasn't much room where the drivers' position occupied, yet before I could question what she was doing, I felt a lump lodge itself in my throat as she moved herself over and then sat in my lap. What little heat was left in my body invaded my cheeks just how Germany had done to Poland those years ago. Fate looked at me with her yellowish eyes, before she eased her body flush against my own. Her tail hung down to one side of my seat as she wrapped one of her arms around my neck, her eyes closing as she placed her cheek alongside my own; her other arm pressing against my body where her own wasn't.

I sat there in stuffed silence, not sure how to respond or what to do in this situation. Yet as she sat there, she spoke a question softly beside my ear, "Is this better? Are you still cold?"

It was then that I noticed that I was in fact no longer cold, her body pressing against my own was sharing her natural body heat with my own, and despite the somewhat uncomfortable situation, it was the most comfortable I had felt since I had arrived in this frozen land. I even felt her tail wrap around my leg, and I swallowed thickly as I wrapped an arm around her back, hesitantly pressing my hand against her side in the end. I continued to look straight out the viewport as I said, "Y-Yes... it's as if we are no longer surrounded by snow."

She hummed softly, her muzzle not moving an inch as she said quietly, "Good... I think I am going to sleep now, since neither of us slept much last night."

* * *

 **A.N.: Hello everyone and welcome to the newest addition to Damaged Knight** _ **Remastered**_ **version! I had given the thought of rewriting this one-shot before, yet it wasn't until I received more than helpful information/suggestions from '** _OC Vaiden Talos_ **' that I actually took to writing a complete version of this story instead of incomplete documents that went to the recycle bin. Now, I will be leaving the originally document up so that others can go back and compare if they want to, and while the general content is the same, I rewrote it from scratch, simply using the previous document for reference for where to take the story, how to play it out, and where to add improvements or changes.**

 **When I went back and reread Damaged Knight (** _Unmastered_ **), I noticed something that brought me much pain to my heart; I wrote with a very poor skill level. Details were scarce, plotline was weak, holes were left in the document, and most importantly, it didn't seem realistic in any form or way. Stephen was overemotional for a commander, his tanks crew was incomplete, and there wasn't enough war details or anything similar. This new chapter, it introduces many new features, and lengthens the background of how Stephen and Fate reached Oasis with greater detail than I had previously thought.**

 **I went back and looked at the later chapters of Fabled World to see just exactly what Damaged Knight was supposed to do, and I realized an embarrassingly obvious fact. In the Fabled World, the man's name is Stephen Myers, in Damaged Knight (** _Unmastered_ **), his name is Stephen Polaski Armen. I fixed that small error. Now, while I noticed small problems here and there and attempted to fix them to the best of my knowledge, it is only thanks to** _'_ _OC Vaiden Talos_ _'_ **that this story received a re-haul. If anything, I want all of you that liked this newer version to also give him some gratitude as well. He may not have his own story...** _ **yet**_ **... but you can still send him a PM.**

 **Thanks for reading the new installment of Damaged Knight** _ **Remastered**_ **, and please, don't forget to leave a review.**

 _All rights to Twokinds and Franchises belongs to Tom Fischbach._


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